


My Brothers

by applecameron



Category: The 13th Warrior
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-26
Updated: 2009-11-26
Packaged: 2017-10-03 19:25:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/applecameron/pseuds/applecameron
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of many writings by Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan Ibn Al Abbas Ibn Rashid Ibn Hamad of his experiences with the men of the North, but one left unfound for many years.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Brothers

In the name of God, the Compassionate, the Merciful, by this the hand of His servant, Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan Ibn Al Abbas Ibn Rashid Ibn Hamad.

Never have I written of this before, never shall I speak of it aloud. But the story of a man's life may not be ignored. I leave this to be opened many years after my death, and read only by the old, who have learned better than to fear such truths.

I met the North men when I was yet a fool, young, and ignorant, and by their teaching I became a man, and learned of a man's duties, and of the love of brothers. My teacher in this last was my brother at arms, a man with hair the color of the sun. Who had nothing but a sword arm but gave of himself as if he were a river, unending, flowing to the sea.

His mouth on the palm of my hand, when he touched me there, was tender. His mouth on mine was even more so.

How could I ever say no to my brother? I gave of myself to him, strove to match him heat for heat, blow for blow in the arts of manly love, which I had never known before. He made of me his pupil, and swiftly then his equal, and when we grappled for the last time, the night before my leaving, it was bitter and joyous all at once.

His skin under his clothing was pale, so pale, and I put my mouth on it and roamed across him at will. So like, and so unlike.

I have written all my journeys but this, my journey to a brother's heart, for such things are not spoken of outside the circle of warriors. It is not their way.

I do not write his name, but these are the words that are graven on my heart, beside the truth of God the Compassionate, the Merciful, and His prophet Mohammed (peace be upon him).

These are the words of the North men, who embrace destiny and do not fear death.

> Lo, there, do I see my father,  
> Lo, there, do I see my mother and my sisters and my brothers,  
> Lo, there, do I see the line of my people,  
> Back to the beginning,
> 
> Lo, they do call to me,  
> They bid me take my place among them,  
> In the halls of Valhalla,  
> Where the brave live forever.

I pray for them, that they die bravely, in battle. My beloved brothers.


End file.
